Chapter XVI: Part 16

_Soc._ And he who is not a physician must, obviously, be
ignorant of what the physician knows.

_Gor._ Clearly.

_Soc._ Then, when the rhetorician is more persuasive than
the physician, the ignorant is more persuasive with the
ignorant than he who has knowledge?—is not that the
inference?

_Gor._ In the case supposed:—yes.

_Soc._ And the same holds of the relation of rhetoric to all
the other arts; the rhetorician need not know the truth about
things; he has only to discover some way of persuading
the ignorant that he has more knowledge than those who
know?

[Sidenote: _The false analogy of the arts._]

_Gor._ Yes, Socrates, and is not this a great comfort?—not
to have learned the other arts, but the art of rhetoric only,
and yet to be in no way inferior to the professors of
them?

[Sidenote: And is the rhetorician as ignorant of good and evil, just and unjust, as about special arts; or will Gorgias teach him these things first?]

_Soc._ Whether the rhetorician is or is not inferior on this
account is a question which we will hereafter examine if the
enquiry is likely to be of any service to us; but I would
rather begin by asking, whether he is or is not as ignorant of
the just and unjust, base and honourable, good and evil, as
he is of medicine and the other arts; I mean to say, does
he really know anything of what is good and evil, base or
honourable, just or unjust in them; or has he only a way
with the ignorant of persuading them that he not knowing is
to be esteemed to know more about these things than some
one else who knows? Or must the pupil know these things
and come to you knowing them before he can acquire the art
of rhetoric? If he is ignorant, you who are the teacher of
rhetoric will not teach him—it is not your business; but
you will make him seem to the multitude to know them,
when he does not know them; and seem to be a good man,
when he is not. Or will you be unable to teach him rhetoric 460
at all, unless he knows the truth of these things first? What
is to be said about all this? By heaven, Gorgias, I wish that
you would reveal to me the power of rhetoric, as you were
saying that you would.

[Sidenote: He must be taught.]

_Gor._ Well, Socrates, I suppose that if the pupil does chance
not to know them, he will have to learn of me these things as
well.

_Soc._ Say no more, for there you are right; and so he
whom you make a rhetorician must either know the nature
of the just and unjust already, or he must be taught by
you.

_Gor._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Well, and is not he who has learned carpentering a
carpenter?

_Gor._ Yes.

_Soc._ And he who has learned music a musician?

_Gor._ Yes.

_Soc._ And he who has learned medicine is a physician, in
like manner? He who has learned anything whatever is
that which his knowledge makes him.

_Gor._ Certainly.

[Sidenote: _The inconsistency of Gorgias pointed out._]

_Soc._ And in the same way, he who has learned what is just
is just?

_Gor._ To be sure.

[Sidenote: He who has learned what is just, is admitted to be just and to act justly. But if so, the rhetorician, having learned what is just, must act justly, and can never therefore make an ill use of rhetoric.]

_Soc._ And he who is just may be supposed to do what is
just?

_Gor._ Yes.

_Soc._ And must not[30] the just man always desire to do what
is just?

_Gor._ That is clearly the inference.

_Soc._ Surely, then, the just man will never consent to do
injustice?

_Gor._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ And according to the argument the rhetorician must
be a just man?

_Gor._ Yes.

_Soc._ And will therefore never be willing to do injustice?

_Gor._ Clearly not.

_Soc._ But do you remember saying just now that the trainer
is not to be accused or banished if the pugilist makes a wrong
use of his pugilistic art; and in like manner, if the rhetorician
makes a bad and unjust use of his rhetoric, that is not to be
laid to the charge of his teacher, who is not to be banished,
but the wrong-doer himself who made a bad use of his rhetoric—he
is to be banished—was not that said?

_Gor._ Yes, it was.

_Soc._ But now we are affirming that the aforesaid rhetorician
will never have done injustice at all?

_Gor._ True.

_Soc._ And at the very outset, Gorgias, it was said that
rhetoric treated of discourse, not [like arithmetic] about odd
and even, but about just and unjust? Was not this said?

_Gor._ Yes.

[Sidenote: _A change in the parts._]

_Soc._ I was thinking at the time, when I heard you saying
so, that rhetoric, which is always discoursing about justice,
could not possibly be an unjust thing. But when you added,
shortly afterwards, that the rhetorician might make a bad use
of rhetoric I noted with surprise the inconsistency into which 461
you had fallen; and I said, that if you thought, as I did, that
there was a gain in being refuted, there would be an advantage
in going on with the question, but if not, I would leave off.
And in the course of our investigations, as you will see yourself,
the rhetorician has been acknowledged to be incapable
of making an unjust use of rhetoric, or of willingness to do
injustice. By the dog, Gorgias, there will be a great deal of
discussion, before we get at the truth of all this.

[Sidenote: The paradoxes of Socrates arouse the ire of Polus.]

_Polus._ And do even you, Socrates, seriously believe what
you are now saying about rhetoric? What! because Gorgias
was ashamed to deny that the rhetorician knew the just and
the honourable and the good, and admitted that to any one
who came to him ignorant of them he could teach them,
and then out of this admission there arose a contradiction—the
thing which you so dearly love, and to which not he, but
you, brought the argument by your captious questions—[do
you seriously believe that there is any truth in all this?] For
will any one ever acknowledge that he does not know, or
cannot teach, the nature of justice? The truth is, that there
is great want of manners in bringing the argument to such a
pass.

[Sidenote: Socrates is willing enough to receive his correction, if he will only be brief.]

_Soc._ Illustrious Polus, the reason why we provide ourselves
with friends and children is, that when we get old and
stumble, a younger generation may be at hand to set us on
our legs again in our words and in our actions: and now, if I
and Gorgias are stumbling, here are you who should raise us
up; and I for my part engage to retract any error into which
you may think that I have fallen—upon one condition:

_Pol._ What condition?

_Soc._ That you contract, Polus, the prolixity of speech in
which you indulged at first.

[Sidenote: ‘Am I to be deprived of speech in a free state?’]

_Pol._ What! do you mean that I may not use as many
words as I please?

[Sidenote: ‘Am I to be compelled to listen?’]

[Sidenote: _Socrates asks instead of answering._]

_Soc._ Only to think, my friend, that having come on a visit
to Athens, which is the most free-spoken state in Hellas, you
when you got there, and you alone, should be deprived of the
power of speech—that would be hard indeed. But then consider
my case:—shall not I be very hardly used, if, when you
are making a long oration, and refusing to answer what you
are asked, I am compelled to stay and listen to you, and may 462
not go away? I say rather, if you have a real interest in the
argument, or, to repeat my former expression, have any
desire to set it on its legs, take back any statement which you
please; and in your turn ask and answer, like myself and
Gorgias—refute and be refuted: for I suppose that you would
claim to know what Gorgias knows—would you not?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And you, like him, invite any one to ask you about
anything which he pleases, and you will know how to answer
him?

_Pol._ To be sure.

_Soc._ And now, which will you do, ask or answer?

_Pol._ I will ask; and do you answer me, Socrates, the same
question which Gorgias, as you suppose, is unable to answer:
What is rhetoric?

_Soc._ Do you mean what sort of an art?

_Pol._ Yes.

[Sidenote: Socrates in his answer contrives to give Polus a lesson.]

_Soc._ To say the truth, Polus, it is not an art at all, in my
opinion.

_Pol._ Then what, in your opinion, is rhetoric?

_Soc._ A thing which, as I was lately reading in a book of
yours, you say created art.

_Pol._ What thing?

_Soc._ I should say a sort of experience.

_Pol._ Does rhetoric seem to you to be an experience?

_Soc._ That is my view, but you may be of another mind.

_Pol._ An experience in what?

_Soc._ An experience in producing a sort of delight and
gratification.

_Pol._ And if able to gratify others, must not rhetoric be
a fine thing?

_Soc._ What are you saying, Polus? Why do you ask me
whether rhetoric is a fine thing or not, when I have not as
yet told you what rhetoric is?

_Pol._ Did I not hear you say that rhetoric was a sort of
experience?

_Soc._ Will you, who are so desirous to gratify others, afford
a slight gratification to me?

_Pol._ I will.

_Soc._ Will you ask me, what sort of an art is cookery?

_Pol._ What sort of an art is cookery?

[Sidenote: _Once more, ‘What is rhetoric?’_]

_Soc._ Not an art at all, Polus.

_Pol._ What then?

_Soc._ I should say an experience.

_Pol._ In what? I wish that you would explain to me.

[Sidenote: He puts rhetoric and cookery in the same class; and that class is flattery.]

_Soc._ An experience in producing a sort of delight and
gratification, Polus.

_Pol._ Then are cookery and rhetoric the same?

_Soc._ No, they are only different parts of the same profession.

_Pol._ Of what profession?

_Soc._ I am afraid that the truth may seem discourteous;
and I hesitate to answer, lest Gorgias should imagine that
I am making fun of his own profession. For whether or
no this is that art of rhetoric which Gorgias practises I 463
really cannot tell:—from what he was just now saying,
nothing appeared of what he thought of his art, but the
rhetoric which I mean is a part of a not very creditable
whole.

_Gor._ A part of what, Socrates? Say what you mean, and
never mind me.

_Soc._ In my opinion then, Gorgias, the whole of which
rhetoric is a part is not an art at all, but the habit of a
bold and ready wit, which knows how to manage mankind:
this habit I sum up under the word ‘flattery’; and it appears
to me to have many other parts, one of which is cookery,
which may seem to be an art, but, as I maintain, is only an
experience or routine and not an art:—another part is
rhetoric, and the art of attiring and sophistry are two
others: thus there are four branches, and four different
things answering to them. And Polus may ask, if he likes,
for he has not as yet been informed, what part of flattery
is rhetoric: he did not see that I had not yet answered him
when he proceeded to ask a further question: Whether I
do not think rhetoric a fine thing? But I shall not tell him
whether rhetoric is a fine thing or not, until I have first
answered, ‘What is rhetoric?’ For that would not be
right, Polus; but I shall be happy to answer, if you will
ask me, What part of flattery is rhetoric?

_Pol._ I will ask, and do you answer? What part of flattery
is rhetoric?

[Sidenote: _Shams and flatteries._]

[Sidenote: Rhetoric is the shadow of a part of politics.]

_Soc._ Will you understand my answer? Rhetoric, according
to my view, is the ghost or counterfeit of a part of
politics.

_Pol._ And noble or ignoble?

_Soc._ Ignoble, I should say, if I am compelled to answer,
for I call what is bad ignoble:—though I doubt whether
you understand what I was saying before.

_Gor._ Indeed, Socrates, I cannot say that I understand
myself.

_Soc._ I do not wonder, Gorgias; for I have not as yet
explained myself, and our friend Polus, colt by name and
colt by nature, is apt to run away[31].

[Sidenote: ‘But what in the world does this mean?’]

_Gor._ Never mind him, but explain to me what you mean
by saying that rhetoric is the counterfeit of a part of politics.

_Soc._ I will try, then, to explain my notion of rhetoric, and
if I am mistaken, my friend Polus shall refute me. We may 464
assume the existence of bodies and of souls?

_Gor._ Of course.

[Sidenote: Returning to first principles, Socrates assumes the existence of souls and bodies which may or may not be in a good condition, real or apparent.]

_Soc._ You would further admit that there is a good condition
of either of them?

_Gor._ Yes.

_Soc._ Which condition may not be really good, but good
only in appearance? I mean to say, that there are many
persons who appear to be in good health, and whom only
a physician or trainer will discern at first sight not to be in
good health.

_Gor._ True.

_Soc._ And this applies not only to the body, but also to the
soul: in either there may be that which gives the appearance
of health and not the reality?

_Gor._ Yes, certainly.

[Sidenote: To the soul corresponds the art of politics which has two parts, legislation and justice, and to the body corresponds another nameless art of training which has two parts, medicine and gymnastic; and these four have four shams corresponding to them.]

[Sidenote: _Rhetoric and Sophistic._]

_Soc._ And now I will endeavour to explain to you more
clearly what I mean: The soul and body being two, have
two arts corresponding to them: there is the art of politics
attending on the soul; and another art attending on the
body, of which I know no single name, but which may be
described as having two divisions, one of them gymnastic,
and the other medicine. And in politics there is a legislative
part, which answers to gymnastic, as justice does to medicine;
and the two parts run into one another, justice having to do
with the same subject as legislation, and medicine with the
same subject as gymnastic, but with a difference. Now,
seeing that there are these four arts, two attending on the
body and two on the soul for their highest good; flattery
knowing, or rather guessing their natures, has distributed
herself into four shams or simulations of them; she puts
on the likeness of some one or other of them, and pretends
to be that which she simulates, and having no regard for
men’s highest interests, is ever making pleasure the bait of
the unwary, and deceiving them into the belief that she is
of the highest value to them. Cookery simulates the disguise
of medicine, and pretends to know what food is the
best for the body; and if the physician and the cook had
to enter into a competition in which children were the
judges, or men who had no more sense than children, as
to which of them best understands the goodness or badness
of food, the physician would be starved to death. A flattery
I deem this to be and of an ignoble sort, Polus, for to you 465
I am now addressing myself, because it aims at pleasure
without any thought of the best. An art I do not call it, but
only an experience, because it is unable to explain or to give
a reason of the nature of its own applications. And I do not
call any irrational thing an art; but if you dispute my words,
I am prepared to argue in defence of them.

Cookery, then, I maintain to be a flattery which takes the
form of medicine; and tiring, in like manner, is a flattery
which takes the form of gymnastic, and is knavish, false,
ignoble, illiberal, working deceitfully by the help of lines, and
colours, and enamels, and garments, and making men affect
a spurious beauty to the neglect of the true beauty which is
given by gymnastic.

[Sidenote: The shams are cooking, dressing up, sophistry, rhetoric.]

[Sidenote: _Hard words pass between Polus and Socrates._]

[Sidenote: Socrates excuses himself for the length at which he has spoken.]

I would rather not be tedious, and therefore I will only
say, after the manner of the geometricians, (for I think that
by this time you will be able to follow,)

as tiring : gymnastic :: cookery : medicine;

or rather,

as tiring : gymnastic :: sophistry : legislation;

and

as cookery : medicine :: rhetoric : justice.

And this, I say, is the natural difference between the rhetorician
and the sophist, but by reason of their near connection,
they are apt to be jumbled up together, neither do they
know what to make of themselves, nor do other men know
what to make of them. For if the body presided over itself,
and were not under the guidance of the soul, and the soul
did not discern and discriminate between cookery and
medicine, but the body was made the judge of them, and
the rule of judgment was the bodily delight which was given
by them, then the word of Anaxagoras, that word with which
you, friend Polus, are so well acquainted, would prevail far and
wide: ‘Chaos’ would come again, and cookery, health, and
medicine would mingle in an indiscriminate mass. And now
I have told you my notion of rhetoric, which is, in relation to
the soul, what cookery is to the body. I may have been
inconsistent in making a long speech, when I would not
allow you to discourse at length. But I think that I may be
excused, because you did not understand me, and could
make no use of my answer when I spoke shortly, and therefore
I had to enter into an explanation. And if I show an 466
equal inability to make use of yours, I hope that you will
speak at equal length; but if I am able to understand you,
let me have the benefit of your brevity, as is only fair: And
now you may do what you please with my answer.

_Pol._ What do you mean? do you think that rhetoric is
flattery?

_Soc._ Nay, I said a part of flattery; if at your age, Polus,
you cannot remember, what will you do by-and-by, when
you get older?

_Pol._ And are the good rhetoricians meanly regarded in
states, under the idea that they are flatterers?

_Soc._ Is that a question or the beginning of a speech?

_Pol._ I am asking a question.

_Soc._ Then my answer is, that they are not regarded at all.

[Sidenote: Polus cannot be made to understand that rhetoricians have no real power in a state, because they do not do what they ultimately will, but only what they think best.]

_Pol._ How not regarded? Have they not very great
power in states?

_Soc._ Not if you mean to say that power is a good to the
possessor.

[Sidenote: _Polus is greatly irritated by Socrates._]

_Pol._ And that is what I do mean to say.

_Soc._ Then, if so, I think that they have the least power of
all the citizens.

_Pol._ What! are they not like tyrants? They kill and
despoil and exile any one whom they please.

_Soc._ By the dog, Polus, I cannot make out at each deliverance
of yours, whether you are giving an opinion of your
own, or asking a question of me.

_Pol._ I am asking a question of you.

_Soc._ Yes, my friend, but you ask two questions at once.

_Pol._ How two questions?

_Soc._ Why, did you not say just now that the rhetoricians
are like tyrants, and that they kill and despoil or exile any
one whom they please?

_Pol._ I did.

_Soc._ Well then, I say to you that here are two questions
in one, and I will answer both of them. And I tell you,
Polus, that rhetoricians and tyrants have the least possible
power in states, as I was just now saying; for they do
literally nothing which they will, but only what they think
best.

_Pol._ And is not that a great power?

_Soc._ Polus has already said the reverse.

_Pol._ Said the reverse! nay, that is what I assert.

_Soc._ No, by the great—what do you call him?—not you,
for you say that great power is a good to him who has the
power.

_Pol._ I do.

_Soc._ And would you maintain that if a fool does what he
thinks best, this is a good, and would you call this great
power?

_Pol._ I should not.

[Sidenote: For a fool and a flatterer cannot know what is good.]

_Soc._ Then you must prove that the rhetorician is not a
fool, and that rhetoric is an art and not a flattery—and so 467
you will have refuted me; but if you leave me unrefuted,
why, the rhetoricians who do what they think best in states,
and the tyrants, will have nothing upon which to congratulate
themselves, if, as you say, power be indeed a good, admitting
at the same time that what is done without sense is an evil.

_Pol._ Yes; I admit that.

[Sidenote: _What men will is not what they think best._]

_Soc._ How then can the rhetoricians or the tyrants have
great power in states, unless Polus can refute Socrates, and
prove to him that they do as they will?

_Pol._ This fellow—

_Soc._ I say that they do not do as they will;—now refute
me.

_Pol._ Why, have you not already said that they do as they
think best?

_Soc._ And I say so still.

_Pol._ Then surely they do as they will?

_Soc._ I deny it.

_Pol._ But they do what they think best?

_Soc._ Aye.

_Pol._ That, Socrates, is monstrous and absurd.

_Soc._ Good words, good Polus, as I may say in your own
peculiar style; but if you have any questions to ask of
me, either prove that I am in error or give the answer
yourself.

_Pol._ Very well, I am willing to answer that I may know
what you mean.

_Soc._ Do men appear to you to will that which they do, or
to will that further end for the sake of which they do a
thing? when they take medicine, for example, at the bidding
of a physician, do they will the drinking of the medicine
which is painful, or the health for the sake of which they
drink?

_Pol._ Clearly, the health.

_Soc._ And when men go on a voyage or engage in business,
they do not will that which they are doing at the time; for
who would desire to take the risk of a voyage or the trouble
of business?—But they will, to have the wealth for the sake
of which they go on a voyage.

_Pol._ Certainly.

[Sidenote: A man cannot will unless he knows the ultimate good for the sake of which he acts.]

_Soc._ And is not this universally true? If a man does
something for the sake of something else, he wills not that
which he does, but that for the sake of which he does it.

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And are not all things either good or evil, or intermediate
and indifferent?

_Pol._ To be sure, Socrates.

[Sidenote: _Good is the end of human action._]

_Soc._ Wisdom and health and wealth and the like you
would call goods, and their opposites evils?

_Pol._ I should.

_Soc._ And the things which are neither good nor evil, and 468
which partake sometimes of the nature of good and at other
times of evil, or of neither, are such as sitting, walking,
running, sailing; or, again, wood, stones, and the like:—these
are the things which you call neither good nor evil?

_Pol._ Exactly so.

_Soc._ Are these indifferent things done for the sake of the
good, or the good for the sake of the indifferent?

_Pol._ Clearly, the indifferent for the sake of the good.

_Soc._ When we walk we walk for the sake of the good, and
under the idea that it is better to walk, and when we stand
we stand equally for the sake of the good?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And when we kill a man we kill him or exile him or
despoil him of his goods, because, as we think, it will conduce
to our good?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Men who do any of these things do them for the sake
of the good?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And did we not admit that in doing something for the
sake of something else, we do not will those things which we
do, but that other thing for the sake of which we do them?

_Pol._ Most true.

_Soc._ Then we do not will simply to kill a man or to exile
him or to despoil him of his goods, but we will to do that
which conduces to our good, and if the act is not conducive
to our good we do not will it; for we will, as you say, that
which is our good, but that which is neither good nor evil, or
simply evil, we do not will. Why are you silent, Polus?
Am I not right?

_Pol._ You are right.

_Soc._ Hence we may infer, that if any one, whether he be
a tyrant or a rhetorician, kills another or exiles another or
deprives him of his property, under the idea that the act is
for his own interests when really not for his own interests, he
may be said to do what seems best to him?

[Sidenote: _Will is the correlative of good._]

_Pol._ Yes.

[Sidenote: No man does what he wills who does what is evil.]

_Soc._ But does he do what he wills if he does what is evil?
Why do you not answer?

_Pol._ Well, I suppose not.

_Soc._ Then if great power is a good as you allow, will such
a one have great power in a state?

_Pol._ He will not.

_Soc._ Then I was right in saying that a man may do what
seems good to him in a state, and not have great power, and
not do what he wills?

_Pol._ As though you, Socrates, would not like to have the
power of doing what seemed good to you in the state, rather
than not; you would not be jealous when you saw any one
killing or despoiling or imprisoning whom he pleased,
Oh, no!

_Soc._ Justly or unjustly, do you mean? 469

_Pol._ In either case is he not equally to be envied?

_Soc._ Forbear, Polus!

_Pol._ Why ‘forbear’?

_Soc._ Because you ought not to envy wretches who are not
to be envied, but only to pity them.

_Pol._ And are those of whom I spoke wretches?

_Soc._ Yes, certainly they are.

[Sidenote: He who makes a bad use of power is not to be envied, but pitied.]

_Pol._ And so you think that he who slays any one whom he
pleases, and justly slays him, is pitiable and wretched?

_Soc._ No, I do not say that of him: but neither do I think
that he is to be envied.

_Pol._ Were you not saying just now that he is wretched?

_Soc._ Yes, my friend, if he killed another unjustly, in which
case he is also to be pitied; and he is not to be envied if he
killed him justly.

_Pol._ At any rate you will allow that he who is unjustly put
to death is wretched, and to be pitied?

_Soc._ Not so much, Polus, as he who kills him, and not so
much as he who is justly killed.

_Pol._ How can that be, Socrates?

_Soc._ That may very well be, inasmuch as doing injustice is
the greatest of evils.

_Pol._ But is it the greatest? Is not suffering injustice a
greater evil?

[Sidenote: _A paradox._]

_Soc._ Certainly not.

_Pol._ Then would you rather suffer than do injustice?

[Sidenote: Better to suffer than to do injustice.]

_Soc._ I should not like either, but if I must choose between
them, I would rather suffer than do.

_Pol._ Then you would not wish to be a tyrant?

_Soc._ Not if you mean by tyranny what I mean.

_Pol._ I mean, as I said before, the power of doing whatever
seems good to you in a state, killing, banishing, doing in all
things as you like.

[Sidenote: A tyrant has no real power any more than a man who runs out into the Agora carrying a dagger.]

_Soc._ Well then, illustrious friend, when I have said my
say, do you reply to me. Suppose that I go into a crowded
Agora, and take a dagger under my arm. Polus, I say to
you, I have just acquired rare power, and become a tyrant;
for if I think that any of these men whom you see ought to
be put to death, the man whom I have a mind to kill is as
good as dead; and if I am disposed to break his head or
tear his garment, he will have his head broken or his garment
torn in an instant. Such is my great power in this city.
And if you do not believe me, and I show you the dagger,
you would probably reply: Socrates, in that sort of way any
one may have great power—he may burn any house which he
pleases, and the docks and triremes of the Athenians, and all
their other vessels, whether public or private—but can you
believe that this mere doing as you think best is great
power?

_Pol._ Certainly not such doing as this.

_Soc._ But can you tell me why you disapprove of such a 470
power?

_Pol._ I can.

_Soc._ Why then?

_Pol._ Why, because he who did as you say would be certain
to be punished.

_Soc._ And punishment is an evil?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And you would admit once more, my good sir, that
great power is a benefit to a man if his actions turn out to his
advantage, and that this is the meaning of great power; and
if not, then his power is an evil and is no power. But let us
look at the matter in another way:—do we not acknowledge
that the things of which we were speaking, the infliction of
death, and exile, and the deprivation of property are sometimes
a good and sometimes not a good?

[Sidenote: _Is Archelaus happy?_]

_Pol._ Certainly.

[Sidenote: Even what we commonly call the evils of life may be goods in disguise.]

_Soc._ About that you and I may be supposed to agree?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ Tell me, then, when do you say that they are good
and when that they are evil—what principle do you lay
down?

_Pol._ I would rather, Socrates, that you should answer as
well as ask that question.

_Soc._ Well, Polus, since you would rather have the answer
from me, I say that they are good when they are just, and
evil when they are unjust.

_Pol._ You are hard of refutation, Socrates, but might not a
child refute that statement?

_Soc._ Then I shall be very grateful to the child, and equally
grateful to you if you will refute me and deliver me from my
foolishness. And I hope that refute me you will, and not
weary of doing good to a friend.

_Pol._ Yes, Socrates, and I need not go far or appeal to
antiquity; events which happened only a few days ago are
enough to refute you, and to prove that many men who do
wrong are happy.

_Soc._ What events?

_Pol._ You see, I presume, that Archelaus the son of Perdiccas
is now the ruler of Macedonia?

_Soc._ At any rate I hear that he is.

_Pol._ And do you think that he is happy or miserable?

_Soc._ I cannot say, Polus, for I have never had any acquaintance
with him.

_Pol._ And cannot you tell at once, and without having an
acquaintance with him, whether a man is happy?

_Soc._ Most certainly not.

[Sidenote: Is the great king happy?]

_Pol._ Then clearly, Socrates, you would say that you
did not even know whether the great king was a happy
man?

_Soc._ And I should speak the truth; for I do not know how
he stands in the matter of education and justice.

_Pol._ What! and does all happiness consist in this?

[Sidenote: _Certainly not, if he is wicked._]

_Soc._ Yes, indeed, Polus, that is my doctrine; the men and
women who are gentle and good are also happy, as I maintain,
and the unjust and evil are miserable.

_Pol._ Then, according to your doctrine, the said Archelaus 471
is miserable?

_Soc._ Yes, my friend, if he is wicked.

[Sidenote: Polus attempts to prove the happiness of the unjust by the story of Archelaus, who has lately by many crimes gained the throne of Macedonia.]

_Pol._ That he is wicked I cannot deny; for he had no title
at all to the throne which he now occupies, he being only the
son of a woman who was the slave of Alcetas the brother of
Perdiccas; he himself therefore in strict right was the slave
of Alcetas; and if he had meant to do rightly he would have
remained his slave, and then, according to your doctrine,
he would have been happy. But now he is unspeakably
miserable, for he has been guilty of the greatest crimes: in
the first place he invited his uncle and master, Alcetas, to
come to him, under the pretence that he would restore to
him the throne which Perdiccas had usurped, and after
entertaining him and his son Alexander, who was his own
cousin, and nearly of an age with him, and making them
drunk, he threw them into a waggon and carried them off by
night, and slew them, and got both of them out of the way;
and when he had done all this wickedness he never discovered
that he was the most miserable of all men, and was
very far from repenting: shall I tell you how he showed his
remorse? he had a younger brother, a child of seven years
old, who was the legitimate son of Perdiccas, and to him
of right the kingdom belonged; Archelaus, however, had no
mind to bring him up as he ought and restore the kingdom to
him; that was not his notion of happiness; but not long
afterwards he threw him into a well and drowned him, and
declared to his mother Cleopatra that he had fallen in while
running after a goose, and had been killed. And now as he
is the greatest criminal of all the Macedonians, he may be
supposed to be the most miserable and not the happiest
of them, and I dare say that there are many Athenians, and
you would be at the head of them, who would rather be any
other Macedonian than Archelaus!

[Sidenote: Socrates sees no force in such arguments.]

[Sidenote: _Socrates alone in his opinion._]

_Soc._ I praised you at first, Polus, for being a rhetorician
rather than a reasoner. And this, as I suppose, is the sort
of argument with which you fancy that a child might refute
me, and by which I stand refuted when I say that the unjust
man is not happy. But, my good friend, where is the
refutation? I cannot admit a word which you have been
saying.

_Pol._ That is because you will not; for you surely must
think as I do.

[Sidenote: The multitude of witnesses are nothing to him.]

[Sidenote: He must convince his opponent and himself by argument.]

_Soc._ Not so, my simple friend, but because you will refute
me after the manner which rhetoricians practise in courts of
law. For there the one party think that they refute the
other when they bring forward a number of witnesses of
good repute in proof of their allegations, and their adversary
has only a single one or none at all. But this kind of proof 472
is of no value where truth is the aim; a man may often be
sworn down by a multitude of false witnesses who have a
great air of respectability. And in this argument nearly
every one, Athenian and stranger alike, would be on your
side, if you should bring witnesses in disproof of my statement;—you
may, if you will, summon Nicias the son of
Niceratus, and let his brothers, who gave the row of tripods
which stand in the precincts of Dionysus, come with him; or
you may summon Aristocrates, the son of Scellius, who is
the giver of that famous offering which is at Delphi; summon,
if you will, the whole house of Pericles, or any other great
Athenian family whom you choose;—they will all agree with
you: I only am left alone and cannot agree, for you do not
convince me; although you produce many false witnesses
against me, in the hope of depriving me of my inheritance,
which is the truth. But I consider that nothing worth speaking
of will have been effected by me unless I make you the one
witness of my words; nor by you, unless you make me the one
witness of yours; no matter about the rest of the world. For
there are two ways of refutation, one which is yours and that
of the world in general; but mine is of another sort—let us
compare them, and see in what they differ. For, indeed, we
are at issue about matters which to know is honourable
and not to know disgraceful; to know or not to know
happiness and misery—that is the chief of them. And what
knowledge can be nobler? or what ignorance more disgraceful
than this? And therefore I will begin by asking
you whether you do not think that a man who is unjust
and doing injustice can be happy, seeing that you think
Archelaus unjust, and yet happy? May I assume this to be
your opinion?

[Sidenote: _A greater paradox than the last;_]

_Pol._ Certainly.

[Sidenote: According to Polus the unjust man may be happy if he is unpunished: Socrates maintains that he is more happy, or less unhappy, if he meets with retribution.]

_Soc._ But I say that this is an impossibility—here is one
point about which we are at issue:—very good. And do you
mean to say also that if he meets with retribution and punishment
he will still be happy?

_Pol._ Certainly not; in that case he will be most miserable.

_Soc._ On the other hand, if the unjust be not punished, then,
according to you, he will be happy?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ But in my opinion, Polus, the unjust or doer of unjust
actions is miserable in any case,—more miserable, however, if
he be not punished and does not meet with retribution, and
less miserable if he be punished and meets with retribution at
the hands of gods and men. 473

_Pol._ You are maintaining a strange doctrine, Socrates.

_Soc._ I shall try to make you agree with me, O my friend,
for as a friend I regard you. Then these are the points at
issue between us—are they not? I was saying that to do is
worse than to suffer injustice?

_Pol._ Exactly so.

_Soc._ And you said the opposite?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ I said also that the wicked are miserable, and you refuted
me?

_Pol._ By Zeus I did.

_Soc._ In your own opinion, Polus.

_Pol._ Yes, and I rather suspect that I was in the right.

_Soc._ You further said that the wrong-doer is happy if he
be unpunished?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And I affirm that he is most miserable, and that those
who are punished are less miserable—are you going to refute
this proposition also?

_Pol._ A proposition which is harder of refutation than the
other, Socrates.

_Soc._ Say rather, Polus, impossible; for who can refute the
truth?

[Sidenote: _which Polus begins by laughing at;_]

[Sidenote: What nonsense! Do you mean that the man who expires among tortures is happier than the successful tyrant?]

_Pol._ What do you mean? If a man is detected in an
unjust attempt to make himself a tyrant, and when detected
is racked, mutilated, has his eyes burned out, and after having
had all sorts of great injuries inflicted on him, and having
seen his wife and children suffer the like, is at last impaled
or tarred and burned alive, will he be happier than if he
escape and become a tyrant, and continue all through life
doing what he likes and holding the reins of government, the
envy and admiration both of citizens and strangers? Is that
the paradox which, as you say, cannot be refuted?

_Soc._ There again, noble Polus, you are raising hobgoblins
instead of refuting me; just now you were calling witnesses
against me. But please to refresh my memory a little; did
you say—‘in an unjust attempt to make himself a tyrant’?

_Pol._ Yes, I did.

[Sidenote: Neither is to be called happy if both are wicked.]

_Soc._ Then I say that neither of them will be happier than
the other,—neither he who unjustly acquires a tyranny, nor
he who suffers in the attempt, for of two miserables one
cannot be the happier, but that he who escapes and becomes
a tyrant is the more miserable of the two. Do you laugh,
Polus? Well, this is a new kind of refutation,—when any
one says anything, instead of refuting him to laugh at him.

[Sidenote: Why refute what nobody believes? Ask the company.]

_Pol._ But do you not think, Socrates, that you have been
sufficiently refuted, when you say that which no human being
will allow? Ask the company.

[Sidenote: Socrates never could count heads. This is his description of one of the noblest actions of his life.]

[Sidenote: Say rather, why affirm what every body knows?]

_Soc._ O Polus, I am not a public man, and only last year,
when my tribe were serving as Prytanes, and it became my
duty as their president to take the votes, there was a laugh at
me, because I was unable to take them. And as I failed 474
then, you must not ask me to count the suffrages of the
company now; but if, as I was saying, you have no better
argument than numbers, let me have a turn, and do you
make trial of the sort of proof which, as I think, is required;
for I shall produce one witness only of the truth of my words,
and he is the person with whom I am arguing; his suffrage I
know how to take; but with the many I have nothing to do,
and do not even address myself to them. May I ask then
whether you will answer in turn and have your words put to
the proof? For I certainly think that I and you and every
man do really believe, that to do is a greater evil than to
suffer injustice: and not to be punished than to be punished.

[Sidenote: _but ends by acknowledging the truth of it._]

_Pol._ And I should say neither I, nor any man: would you
yourself, for example, suffer rather than do injustice?

_Soc._ Yes, and you, too; I or any man would.

_Pol._ Quite the reverse; neither you, nor I, nor any man.

_Soc._ But will you answer?

_Pol._ To be sure, I will; for I am curious to hear what you
can have to say.

[Sidenote: Polus, while denying that to do injustice is worse than to suffer, acknowledges it to be more disgraceful. Hence the shipwreck of his argument.]

_Soc._ Tell me, then, and you will know, and let us suppose
that I am beginning at the beginning: which of the two,
Polus, in your opinion, is the worst?—to do injustice or to
suffer?

_Pol._ I should say that suffering was worst.

_Soc._ And which is the greater disgrace?—Answer.

_Pol._ To do.

_Soc._ And the greater disgrace is the greater evil?

_Pol._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ I understand you to say, if I am not mistaken, that
the honourable is not the same as the good, or the disgraceful
as the evil?

_Pol._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ Let me ask a question of you: When you speak of
beautiful things, such as bodies, colours, figures, sounds,
institutions, do you not call them beautiful in reference to
some standard: bodies, for example, are beautiful in proportion
as they are useful, or as the sight of them gives pleasure
to the spectators; can you give any other account of personal
beauty?

_Pol._ I cannot.

_Soc._ And you would say of figures or colours generally
that they were beautiful, either by reason of the pleasure
which they give, or of their use, or of both?

_Pol._ Yes, I should.

_Soc._ And you would call sounds and music beautiful for
the same reason?

_Pol._ I should.

_Soc._ Laws and institutions also have no beauty in them
except in so far as they are useful or pleasant or both?

_Pol._ I think not. 475

_Soc._ And may not the same be said of the beauty of knowledge?

[Sidenote: _The standard of utility._]

_Pol._ To be sure, Socrates; and I very much approve of
your measuring beauty by the standard of pleasure and
utility.

[Sidenote: All things may be measured by the standard of pleasure and utility or of pain and evil.]

_Soc._ And deformity or disgrace may be equally measured
by the opposite standard of pain and evil?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Then when of two beautiful things one exceeds in
beauty, the measure of the excess is to be taken in one or
both of these; that is to say, in pleasure or utility or both?

_Pol._ Very true.

_Soc._ And of two deformed things, that which exceeds in
deformity or disgrace, exceeds either in pain or evil—must it
not be so?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ But then again, what was the observation which you
just now made, about doing and suffering wrong? Did you
not say, that suffering wrong was more evil, and doing wrong
more disgraceful?

_Pol._ I did.

[Sidenote: If to do is, as Polus admits, more disgraceful than to endure wrong, it must also be more evil.]

_Soc._ Then, if doing wrong is more disgraceful than suffering,
the more disgraceful must be more painful and must
exceed in pain or in evil or both: does not that also follow?

_Pol._ Of course.

_Soc._ First, then, let us consider whether the doing of injustice
exceeds the suffering in the consequent pain: Do the
injurers suffer more than the injured?

_Pol._ No, Socrates; certainly not.

_Soc._ Then they do not exceed in pain?

_Pol._ No.

_Soc._ But if not in pain, then not in both?

_Pol._ Certainly not.

_Soc._ Then they can only exceed in the other?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ That is to say, in evil?

_Pol._ True.

_Soc._ Then doing injustice will have an excess of evil, and
will therefore be a greater evil than suffering injustice?

_Pol._ Clearly.

_Soc._ But have not you and the world already agreed that
to do injustice is more disgraceful than to suffer?

[Sidenote: _The two sorts of refutation._]

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And that is now discovered to be more evil?

_Pol._ True.

_Soc._ And would you prefer a greater evil or a greater dishonour
to a less one? Answer, Polus, and fear not; for you
will come to no harm if you nobly resign yourself into the
healing hand of the argument as to a physician without
shrinking, and either say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ to me.

_Pol._ I should say ‘No.’

_Soc._ Would any other man prefer a greater to a less evil?

_Pol._ No, not according to this way of putting the case,
Socrates.

[Sidenote: Polus is refuted out of his own mouth.]

_Soc._ Then I said truly, Polus, that neither you, nor I, nor
any man, would rather do than suffer injustice; for to do injustice
is the greater evil of the two.

_Pol._ That is the conclusion.

[Sidenote: The next question: Is it better for the guilty to suffer or not to suffer punishment?]

_Soc._ You see, Polus, when you compare the two kinds of
refutations, how unlike they are. All men, with the exception
of myself, are of your way of thinking; but your single
assent and witness are enough for me,—I have no need of any 476
other; I take your suffrage, and am regardless of the rest.
Enough of this, and now let us proceed to the next question;
which is, Whether the greatest of evils to a guilty man
is to suffer punishment, as you supposed, or whether to
escape punishment is not a greater evil, as I supposed.
Consider:—You would say that to suffer punishment is
another name for being justly corrected when you do wrong?

_Pol._ I should.

_Soc._ And would you not allow that all just things are
honourable in so far as they are just? Please to reflect, and
tell me your opinion.

_Pol._ Yes, Socrates, I think that they are.

_Soc._ Consider again:—Where there is an agent, must
there not also be a patient?

_Pol._ I should say so.

_Soc._ And will not the patient suffer that which the agent
does, and will not the suffering have the quality of the
action? I mean, for example, that if a man strikes, there
must be something which is stricken?

_Pol._ Yes.

[Sidenote: _Correspondence of suffering and action._]

_Soc._ And if the striker strikes violently or quickly, that
which is struck will be struck violently or quickly?

_Pol._ True.

_Soc._ And the suffering to him who is stricken is of the
same nature as the act of him who strikes?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And if a man burns, there is something which is
burned?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ And if he burns in excess or so as to cause pain, the
thing burned will be burned in the same way?

_Pol._ Truly.

_Soc._ And if he cuts, the same argument holds—there will
be something cut?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And if the cutting be great or deep or such as will
cause pain, the cut will be of the same nature?

_Pol._ That is evident.

[Sidenote: Since the affection of the patient answers to the act of the agent, it follows that he who is punished justly suffers justly, and therefore honourably, and is delivered from the greatest of all evils, the evil of the soul, which, being the most disgraceful, is also the most painful or hurtful.]

_Soc._ Then you would agree generally to the universal proposition
which I was just now asserting: that the affection of
the patient answers to the act of the agent?

_Pol._ I agree.

_Soc._ Then, as this is admitted, let me ask whether being
punished is suffering or acting?

_Pol._ Suffering, Socrates; there can be no doubt of that.

_Soc._ And suffering implies an agent?

_Pol._ Certainly, Socrates; and he is the punisher.

_Soc._ And he who punishes rightly, punishes justly?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And therefore he acts justly?

_Pol._ Justly.

_Soc._ Then he who is punished and suffers retribution,
suffers justly?

_Pol._ That is evident.

_Soc._ And that which is just has been admitted to be
honourable?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Then the punisher does what is honourable, and the
punished suffers what is honourable?

_Pol._ True.

[Sidenote: _Sophistry of Socrates._]

_Soc._ And if what is honourable, then what is good, for the
honourable is either pleasant or useful? 477

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ Then he who is punished suffers what is good?

_Pol._ That is true.

_Soc._ Then he is benefited?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ Do I understand you to mean what I mean by the
term ‘benefited’? I mean, that if he be justly punished
his soul is improved.

_Pol._ Surely.

_Soc._ Then he who is punished is delivered from the evil
of his soul?

_Pol._ Yes.

_Soc._ And is he not then delivered from the greatest evil?
Look at the matter in this way:—In respect of a man’s
estate, do you see any greater evil than poverty?

_Pol._ There is no greater evil.

_Soc._ Again, in a man’s bodily frame, you would say that
the evil is weakness and disease and deformity?

_Pol._ I should.

_Soc._ And do you not imagine that the soul likewise has
some evil of her own?

_Pol._ Of course.

_Soc._ And this you would call injustice and ignorance and
cowardice, and the like?

_Pol._ Certainly.

_Soc._ So then, in mind, body, and estate, which are three,
you have pointed out three corresponding evils—injustice,
disease, poverty?

_Pol._ True.

_Soc._ And which of the evils is the most disgraceful?—Is
not the most disgraceful of them injustice, and in general the
evil of the soul?

_Pol._ By far the most.

_Soc._ And if the most disgraceful, then also the worst?

_Pol._ What do you mean, Socrates?